


Distraction

by thedropoutandthejunkie (elenajames)



Series: Bad Influence [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Butt Plugs, Dirty Talk, M/M, Masturbation, Panty Kink, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 14:55:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3614097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elenajames/pseuds/thedropoutandthejunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Sam usually turns his phone off for lectures, but Brady (the brat) turned it on (at least on silent) without Sam realising. Which means Brady has the ability to text Sam. Pictures. Of himself. Naked. And hard. And Sam is very blushy and paranoid and turns down his phone brightness in case anyone can see over his shoulder before texting Brady back, still trying his hardest (and failing) to listen to the lecturer at the front of the room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sam startles at the faint buzz from his pocket, furtively slipping his phone out and muting it. He always made sure to turn it off, and he definitely remembers doing so before heading to lecture. Opening his messages, he gets his answer immediately. Brady.

_B: Hey sexy ;)_

Sam snorts at the corniness, but it only gets him a dirty look off the junior in front of him. He mouths _sorry_  at her, getting only an eyeroll in return as she turns back around. 

_S: Hey. I’m in class. Txt you later._

Sam doesn’t have a chance to turn off the phone before the next message lights up the screen. He has a split second to register what it is before panic has him clutching it to his chest. Carefully, Sam checks to see if anyone has noticed, but most are listening to the lecture, sleeping, or texting themselves. There are a few people in the row behind him, so he quickly dims the screen and hunches over his desk to shield the screen. 

It’s a shot of Brady sprawled out on the bed, angled down his body. Sam can see the a skiff of pale skin that has to be his chest and belly, a stretch of pale blue fabric over his hard cock and … delicate lace along his thighs. Fuck.

_S: Are those…?_ Sam can’t even bring himself to type the words, jittery at what’s happening right here in the middle of class. 

_B: Stockings? Or you mean these?_  The next shot is of a delicate pair of blue panties dangling from one of Brady’s slim fingers. Sam bites his lip, shifting in his seat as his cock hardens in his jeans. He’s trying not to be conspicuous, but when he looks up again, there’s still no one looking at him. 

_S: God, Brady. Why while I’m in class?_

_B: Cause I’m bored, and I know you are, too. And I want to see how fast you can get back here to me when you're done._

Brady’s hand has the panties wrapped around his cock, the shot taken from close enough that Sam can see the drop of precome at the tip. He coughs to cover the soft moan that wants to come out and slips the phone into the sleeve of his hoodie. There’s no way he can keep doing this, not without getting caught, so he tries to force himself back into the lecture. There’s no point now, though; he’s far too distracted. 

With a sigh of resignation, Sam huddles back down and opens the next message. He has no idea how Brady pulled it off, but Sam is looking at a very clear shot of his boyfriend’s rosy pink hole, slick with lube and two fingers buried inside. The next shows a thick plug stretching him wide, followed immediately by a shot of it seated fully between his cheeks. 

_S: Fuck, you look so good._

_B: You hard for me, Sam? Bet you’re leaking in your jeans. Gonna be nice and stretched, ready for you._

Sam can feel the heat in his cheeks and the throbbing of his cock in his jeans as he types back _Yes._  He’s calculating whether it’s more risky to wait or to run for it when the class is over when his phone lights up again. Come glistens on Brady’s belly and the panties laying across it, and Sam shivers at the sight. 

He’s vaguely aware of the students around him packing up, and he hurriedly shoves the phone into his pocket. Silently, he wills his cock down, to no avail. Only the voice behind him makes a difference. The girl has leaned forward far enough to whisper in his ear, and the embarrassment goes a long way toward killing his arousal.

"Thanks for the show, Winchester. Best class ever."


	2. Chapter 2

Red faced and still stupidly aroused, Sam flees the lecture hall. It earns him some strange looks, and the quiet chuckling of the girl who’d been sitting behind him is going to haunt him for weeks. 

Brady is a dead man.

Sam takes the stairs of their apartment building two at a time, fumbling with his keys, and nearly dropping them before he gets the front door open. He kicks off his shoes and ditches his backpack on the couch on his way to the bedroom.

“Brady!” he calls, trying to sound more angry than desperate, a venture which was not quite successful. A bright laugh echoes from behind the closed bedroom door. Brady’s still sprawled out across the sheets, although he’s cleaned the come from his stomach, and the panties are crumpled on the edge of the bed.

“Welcome home, Sam,” the blonde greets him with a grin. “How was class?”

“You are a menace,” Sam breathes, already stripping out of his clothes. “I missed every word of that lecture and -”

“And you’ll catch up just fine, brilliant as you are,” Brady says simply, still smiling, although it takes on an eager edge as Sam undresses. 

The moment his boxers hit the floor, Sam pounces on his boyfriend, pinning him to the bed. He spares a moment to be amused at the startled look on Brady’s face before leaning down to breathe in the blond’s ear. “Someone saw, you know,” he murmurs, delighting in the sharp intake of breath. “A girl behind me, that friend of yours from Lit? She thanked me for the show. Maybe we’ll have to [give her another](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3614145), sometime.” 

Brady groans, shifting under Sam’s weight. Sam just pins him more firmly, stealing a kiss before pulling back to smirk down at Brady. “Uh uh. You’ve had you’re fun today. It’s my turn now.” 

Sam skims his nose along Brady’s cheek and neck, dipping closer to nip and lick at his throat. 

“You liked that, didn’t you, Sam? Knowing anyone could see your phone, or cock hard in your pants - _fuck!”_  

Teeth sink into the sensitive place on Brady’s neck, causing him to shiver and arch. His hips flex, uselessly attempting to get friction even as Sam’s body weight holds him to the bed. 

“God, _Sam_ , should dress up more often maybe, hm? Wear a pair of pretty panties and stockings just for you, let you get them dirty?”

Sam reaches for the panties, noting the dampness of them between his fingers before balling them up and pushing them insistently into Brady’s mouth. He looks shocked at being gagged, but moans when he taste of his own come hits his tongue. It’s filthier than Sam normally goes with him, and hotter for them both as a result. 

“That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble,” Sam says lowly. 

The plug still firmly in place between Brady’s cheeks is warm to the touch, and Sam toys with it for only a moment. He draws it out on a slow slide, admiring the dusky pink of Brady’s stretched hole when the silicone slips free. Any other day, Sam would love to take the time to play, but his patience is too thin. 

Gripping just where lace gives way to pale thigh, Sam spreads Brady’s legs, pushing his knees up toward his chest so he’s completely bared to Sam’s gaze. Angling himself carefully, Sam thrusts in steadily, biting his lip at the tight heat. Pretty blue eyes are wide, Brady gasping and wrapping his legs around Sam’s waist. A curse slips from Sam’s lips when his hips meet the smooth skin of Brady’s ass, and he has to take a moment to just breathe. 

Brady stretches his arms above him, bracing his hands against the headboard, and Sam knows then that they’re on the exact same page. He sets a pace hard and fast enough to cause the muscles in Brady’s arms to flex and bulge to fight the slide up the bed. Sam watches as a blush blooms on his lover’s face, redder and redder from the pleasure and the strain. He’s a picture of pink cheeks, stretched lips, and those pale blue panties muffling every moan and cry. 

Sam can only grunt, chasing his own pleasure desperately, so when Brady comes, it’s a shock to them both. Sam watches as Brady’s mouth drops open, looking as though the orgasm is being torn from him, much like the scream that tears from his throat. Sam’s own orgasm begins stutteringly, then it tears him under and drags his body into a last few jerky thrusts. 

“Jesus,” Sam pants, letting Brady’s legs go so they drop along his waist. He spares a moment to tug the panties out of Brady’s mouth before collapsing on top of him. “You’re alright?”

“Peachy,” Brady mumbles, pressing a kiss to Sam’s sweaty temple, running his hands along his back. “You’re like a fucking machine sometimes, you know that?” 

“A fucking machine, huh?”

“Oh, shut up.”


End file.
